Tampering With Darkness
by pastoraldreamer
Summary: Even Small towns are capable of witnessing tragedy. However, a plague of murders littering the forest is a whole other matter. Katerina Watson finds herself in the center of the ordeal, leaving her prey to a creature far beyond her realm of understanding. Left to her own devices and a deteriorating psych, her chances of escaping the predator are dangerously slim.


_The fear of death is the most unjustified of all fears, for there's no risk of accident for someone who's dead. _

_-Albert Einstein_

* * *

The air tasted of peppermint mixed with the putrid scent of decay. Every breath inhaled of the bitter winter air was lined with horror from the previous night; of course it didn't cease the Christmas cheer of sucking on candy canes and snowshoeing in the park where yellow caution tape hung. For such a terribly small town, the inhabitants of Wycliffe appeared unfazed by the brutal slaying. Children continued to skate across the frozen lake, and families took part in decorating their homes for the holidays. Upholding normality almost struck as a law, and anyone who dare speak of the tragedy would be immediately shunned.

Katerina couldn't bear to keep her mouth closed.

. ~ ~.~ ~ .

She had awoken to the news blaring on the television downstairs. Half-lidded, emerald orbs snapped open as her alarm drowned out the bits and pieces of the broadcast capturing her attention. A groan elicited from the woman's lips, her arm stretching to quiet the blaring noise. Unfortunately refusing to acknowledge gruesome events meant that prepping for another day of work was required. Kat slipped her feet from out of the silken sheets and unto the wooden floor. In her state of exhaustion simply maneuvering to the bathroom down the hall resembled an Olympic challenge. Still aware of the broadcast, she hastily preformed her morning routine, nearly causing a fatal accident as she attempted to pull on stockings while flying down the spiral staircase. Instantly the rich scent of coffee greeted her, hinting to her fiance's departure. Emerson often awoke at a far earlier hour than her, always leaving the television on and the coffee pot brewing. It had become routine.

Ignoring her exhaustion, she seated herself onto the couch in front of a perky brunette reporter, whom did a marvelous job faking her sincerity.

_"Fifteen year old Lenka Heading's was brutally murdered last night in Wycliffe's forest park. Her parent's claim they had no idea of her whereabouts leaving police to think she left to meet someone. Was this the act of a serial killer? I'll have more information on the situation tonight at ten."_

It was truly astonishing how only the few sentences could make her stomach churn. Lenka was- had been- a cashier at the local market Kat passed by from time to time. Though they had never had the pleasure of interacting before, aside from a small smile and greeting here and there, she felt an overwhelming sickness wash over her. Lenka was so young and just in reach mere days ago. The morbid thought made her mind reel. Horror movies revolving around supernatural killers seemed like nothing compared to something so close to home. It seemed impossible for a serial killer to stalk Wycliffe. After all, with a population already so dangerously small, what would be the point?

Peering up at the clock she breathed a shaky sigh. Lingering on paranoia wasn't going to quicken her journey to work. Perhaps returning to her scheduled day would ease her nerves, or at least silence them for the sake of others.

. ~ ~.~ ~ .

As she had expected, the cafe was buzzing intensely. Gossip drifted throughout groups who knew little about Lenka and sobs sounded from those who did. Kat could feel her anxiety lessen when her coworkers came into view, each wearing an equally concerned expression. Being as equally outspoken as she was, she doubted avoiding the dreadful conversation would be an option.

"I think death brings people together on Holidays." The sarcasm was evident in Beckett's tone, though his lips refused to hold even the faintest outline of a smirk. Unlike Kat, he went about wearing his normal attire. Even the light in his azure eyes refused to fade.

"Only in Wycliffe," Ariatte added, her rose-tinted lips curled in disgust as she brushed back wisps of purple highlighted hair. Commenting further on the situation seemed pointless, seeing as only ill-mannered quips or remorse would be accepted. Kat couldn't offer either. Instead she contemplated returning home where there would be no discussion on the matter. She couldn't bare the boorish conversation, and the choked cries did little to sooth her. Ari and Beckett easily detected the change in her demeanor but did nothing to point it out.

. ~ ~.~ ~ .

The day dragged on excruciatingly slow, bringing forth new levels of exhaustion. A memorial was held in the town square to honor Lenka's death before everyone was permitted to ignore the incident. Kat opted to leave before her shift was over, hoping to escape the chaos if even for a few hours. With the bitter temperature it seemed entirely sensible to venture home immediately, where warmth would consume her before the frost could. Though the cold wasn't entirely unwelcome. It provided an aching numbness that she almost found appealing. She didn't see the harm in indulging in the fresh air. That was of course if her limbs didn't freeze off in the process.

Her feet seemed to move to their own accord. The freshly fallen snow packed beneath her heeled boots, causing her to wobble with each step. Tree's surrounded her quicker than she could process her surroundings. Traveling into the park hadn't been her intentions, but here she was. Straying from the crime scene wasn't anything more than a blank thought in the back of her mind. A burning sensation crept up her throat and forced out sharp coughs. The pressure rising in her chest had become unbearable, leaving Kat panting against the rough bark of a near frozen tree. Her eyes darted up to the horizon, which had begun to transform into deep shades of purple. . It wouldn't be long before Emerson returned from work, though Kat doubted he would question her whereabouts. What she truly dreaded was her return home, where Emerson would likely bring up the topic and bombard her with pointless questions. The mere thought caused her stomach churn.

It was the same feeling she had when thinking of Lenka's death.

Before she could succumb further to her morbid trance, the snapping of twigs returned her to the present moment. Kat whipped her head around to face the source. Aside from rows of barren trees and a few woodland rodents, she could detect nothing out of the ordinary. Chills snaked up her spine, though they were composed of more malaise than feverish frigidness. The intense sensation of eyes wandering over her only heightened her uneasiness. With the recent events looming over her, Kat thought it best to retreat from the icy atmosphere. Her legs found strength to resume their journey once more, feet attempting to move at a light and airy pace. Paranoia wasn't something she favored when alone, even more in a place where death had just recently conquered.

The idea of a killer sticking around the area where cops were surely scouring was obscure. She refused to allow her mind to wander any longer. Each new step brought forth a new wave of pain from the cold, like injecting numerous needles into her arms and legs. The forest opening appeared to be far from where it once was, which Kat put off to her exhausted psych. When another ominous snap sounded from behind, Kat didn't so much as glance the other way. Instead her quivering form trudged on. Nothing appeared to be capable of bringing her to halt. That was until she spotted something hanging from a tree a mere few feet away.

The closer she approached the bark, the more her curiosity burned within. A tarnished paper barely hung from the rough surface, blowing idly in the wind but refusing to be torn from it's spot. Something beckoned Kat to refrain from contact, something which she chose to ignore. She peeled off a leather glove and extended her index finger. The paper was incredibly course, ink from the markings staining her fingertips. A stick figure appeared to be depicted, along with words which read 'Always Watches. No Eyes.' To not have seen this when venturing in seemed preposterous, but not entirely possible. Perhaps teenagers had hung it there as a sick practical joke, desperately hoping to earn a reaction of pure fear. She considered verbally pointing out their stupidity before she was met with an excruciating ringing in her ears. Covering them seemed to do little to keep the high-pitched noise away. Her skin crawled as the sound became deafening, mixed with what she believed to be footsteps behind her.

This time the blonde whipped around in spite of her better judgment. Had she not been drowning in terror, Kat would've thought the figure standing before her was nothing but a hallucination. She wandered for a moment if the cold was finally getting to her head, causing her to create faceless creatures in her mind. Peering through blurry vision she could make out a striking black suit, one that stretched farther than one she'd ever seen any man wear. But even more striking than his disproportional limbs was his face- or rather lack of it. A milky white canvas void of any features, not even the slightest bump or hint that something lay beneath the surface. Something sprouted behind the figure she couldn't seem to make sense of. Inky black, whirling around as if to add a more menacing effect. Are those tentacles? Kat would've laughed at the notion had her head not been in such agony. This had to be a nightmare, though it was far more vivid than any she'd experienced.

The last thing her mind could register was something applying crushing pressure to her ribs before she slipped into oblivion.


End file.
